My oldest son was getting ready to celebrate his 13th birthday. We had been spending a little more time at the beach lately, and over the past couple months, he had developed an interest in fishing. Wanting to upgrade from the small net he had been using, he asked for a fishing rod and reel for his present this year.

I sat on the shore, our three younger kids playing in the sand and running back and forth into the water; over to the right, I watch my husband show our son how to bait his hook and make his first cast into the water. This is when my heart began to ache and all I could think of was my Grandpa.

See, my Grandpa was a life long fisherman. He loved to fish. He loved to fish…..He loved to fish! I sat there watching my son, thinking about my Grandpa and how giddy he would be to stand there and fish next to him. I thought about all the times he took me fishing, all the times I said no, all the times I said I didn’t want to go, and all the times I wish I would have. I thought about the countless stories of his youth, and all the times he drove us around his hometown to look at this old stomping grounds, his childhood home and where he met my Grandma. I thought about how I would be bored to tears in the backseat and how I would count the seconds until he was finished talking so that I could go do whatever it is that kids do. I thought about all the times he would walk in and shut the TV off and tell me to play outside. All the times he would turn on the radio and want me to listen to music from the 40’s, music that meant a lot to him. I thought about how he hated my ear piercings and when I started to wear make up.

I thought about apple picking, nature walks and bird watching, and how he would always ask me about my day. “Tell me all about it”, he would say.  I thought about how he would always stop and say “listen, what kind of bird is that?”… I would never have a clue. I thought about how he would carry his camera around with him; he always wanted a photo. I thought about how he never missed a band concert, swim meet, school recital or birthday. I thought about how much he loved his family. I thought about how much making memories meant to him, and how those memories mean everything to me.

I thought about how he was sentimental and nostalgic. I thought about all these things……

…And I thought about how I was JUST like him.

And then I thought about how I would just give anything, to have him right there sitting next to me, fishing pole in hand, giving my son all his best fisherman wisdom, telling me his stories, and answering all my questions.

See the irony and heartbreak in Grandparents is that you don’t realize how much you can relate to them, until you’re grown and they’re not there anymore.

So now I just have all my many memories and a heart filled with joy as I know that he his smiling down at my son as he reels in a whopper! ❤